Sun Hi POV:

“What’s your name?”  My mind still reeling from Taemin’s abrupt inquiry about becoming dance partners, I find myself struggling to return enough oxygen to my lungs to choke out the brilliant response:

“My…name?” Oh god, now he’s looking at me like I’m a mental patient. Wonderful. Just what I need. Him to think me completely idiotic immediately following his asking such an intense question like “What’s your name?” Honestly, at the moment, I do not think that my brain function is of a level high enough to recall precisely what my name happens to be.

“Yes, pabo, your name. You do have a name, I assume?” Oh, right. That. I know what my name is! …I think. Er, just to be on the safe side…

“Of course I have a name! I just don’t go giving it out to strange boys simply because they’re infatuated with me.” Ha! Let’s see what he has to say about that response! I smirk slightly to myself, still a bit miffed about his nonchalant use of “pabo.” Hn. I’ll teach him to mess with me!

Clearly, based on his earlier behavior, I should have been expecting him to something absolutely insane. Like shoving me up against the wall!!! With his nose about three inches from mine. Does this boy have no inkling of the definition of “personal space?!” Oh, I’ll teach him all right. I’ll learn him real good. Just wait and see! …right after I finish admiring how breathtakingly delicious he smells…like apples and cinnamon and…what the HELL am I thinking?!?!?

I must be going mad. Or perhaps I already am. Either way, these… these…corrupt thoughts must remove themselves from my mind. I am about to shake my head, vigorously, to clear it, when I realize that Taemin, who’s claim of being the “innocent” maknae I am now quite reluctant to believe, leans CLOSER to me. Closer! And I thought three inches away had popped my personal bubble. Guess he thought differently. Maybe idols lose a sense of personal space being forced to live together in such close quarters all of the time.

Getting off of that spontaneous little bunny trail and hopping back onto the path of the present, I became vividly and violently aware of the intense electricity between this strange dancer and myself when his lips brushed my own, barely. Though I’d never admit it to anyone, or even myself for that matter, I craved more, needed more than a brush of lips. He chose this moment to whisper, quite ily into my ear I might add, “Do you feel like telling me your name now…?”

I think my brain actually melted into a pile of goo. Or possibly just my legs. Either way, I was having difficulty standing and breathing. Oh, and I believe that I now know what it feels like to have a heart attack, as my own beat so loudly and so quickly that I was shocked it didn’t just take a flying leap right out of my chest and burst into pieces right there on the floor.

With much difficulty I managed to gasp out a few words, “I…er…I am…I mean, my name…it’s…um, Sun Hi.” Wonderful. Another moment of enormous folly in front of Mr. Maknae. Why does this boy I’ve only just met affect me so greatly? I’ve never felt like this before. Ever. None of my previous boyfriends (not that I’ve had a great deal of them…okay, so I’ve only ever been in two serious relationships) made me feel the way he does. He gazes into my eyes and it’s like I’m instantly hypnotized, caught in the grasp of those gorgeous chocolate peepers.

Having accomplished his goal, dancer boy backs away slowly, looking at me knowingly, as if he can sense just how much his mere presence affects me. I glare at him for assuming such things. (Even if they are true)

“Sun Hi, is it?” he repeats questioningly. I nod, waiting for him to continue.

“That’s a beautiful name…much like the woman to whom it belongs.” His voice changes drastically here, from being arrogant and assuming, to quietly musing to himself, seemingly lost in his thoughts. He appears to note the sudden silence and recomposes himself. Ah, there’s that smirk again.

“Sun Hi, I would very much appreciate it if you would consider my earlier proposal.” Why the hell am I thinking of marriage?!?!?!

I reply with a noncommittal grunt, thinking to myself, oh, if only you knew how much I want to say “hell yes!” and throw myself into your arms…your lean, yet muscular arms…*dreamy sigh* but I mustn’t think such things. Not now.  

“YAH!!!  Lee Taemin!!! Where the bloody hell are you boy?!” an angry shout echoes from a nearby hallway, awakening me from my inappropriate and (unrealistic) daydream.  Taemin also seems shaken, backing quickly away from me.

“Arivaderchi, bella.” He whispers, grasping my hands with his quickly before waving over his shoulder as he runs towards the emitter of the irritated shout, his manager. It’s only several minutes after he’s gone that I regain my own composure and come to the realization that there’s something in my left hand.

 It’s a crumpled piece of paper…looks like a concert program or something. I unfold it, and there, standing out in sharp relief against the dark background are the words “Let me know your answer soon” accompanied by a set of about ten single-digit numbers, written in bright green highlighter. A phone number. HIS phone number.

A/N: hey guys, sorry it's been so long since I last updated, I've been pretty busy lately what with school starting soon and all, but I promise that I'm trying to update as often as I can! I  hope that you enjoyed the chapter!

Comments and subs are appreciated~ 

<(^.^)>  P.S. Kirby says "hi!"